


Hey Little SongBird-GT

by AdventurousScientist (Tuiteyfruity)



Series: Mystic Woods [14]
Category: Enchanted Forest Chronicles - Patricia Wrede, Mystic Woods, Original Work
Genre: Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Logic, Fairy Tale Parody, Fairy Tale Style, Fantasy, Gen, Giant/Tiny, giant tiny - Freeform, gianttiny, sfw gt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23502346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuiteyfruity/pseuds/AdventurousScientist
Summary: (SFW GT fantasy adventure short story)A Tale of the Mystic WoodsStaring: Yonah HaEsh the half-giant wizard. and guest-starring Ophir, the mostly human bard.Summary: Ophir the bard needs a story to get back in the good graces of the Bards Guild and ventures into the Mystic Woods to find one. And what a story he ends up in! In the clutches of the Great and Terrible Yonah HaEsh. Can Ophir, through story, song, and dance, touch the evil “man-eating” giant’s wicked heart and avoid a terrible fate? (yes of course he can!)Warnings: Yonah’s job is to be a villainous fairy tale giant (and wizard). That means the whole “fee fi fo fum” and threatening to eat people routine, and he’s really convincing. At no point in this story does he ever intend to follow through on the threat. ALSO Ophir tells a fairytale that ends slightly gruesomely (I actually changed it to be less so… still)
Series: Mystic Woods [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563316
Kudos: 1





	Hey Little SongBird-GT

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing double? Nope! There exists an alternate version of this story where Ophir does end up eaten but still survives! Dont worry! This story is vore-free! I promise!

—

I hate the stereotype of bards being horny tricksters who use their voices to seduce people into infidelity. Any such stories are complete poppycock and base slander. Bards are more than pretty faces and lovely voices. We are first and foremost story tellers, entertainers! Actors and chroniclers! Often risking life and limb to get you the stories you love so much. Those fancy sword moves and fight dances you see on stage aren’t just for show. 

But still. Going into the Mystic Woods in search of my next story was not a great idea. Solo’ing an adventure into such a dangerous realm was asking for death, with no one around who could tell of it. And yet. I had run out of new material and was desperate. Why didn’t I just purchase rights from another bard through the guild? You might ask. Clever, very clever, but that’s what low rankers do. The Apprentices, the Journeyers. Not Masters such as I. At least. Not ones who are blacklisted from the guild for not properly crediting a story. How was I to know it wasn’t public domain! It seemed pretty generic to me. 

Another problem with being blacklisted? No one wants to adventure with you. Not anyone high ranking enough to help me anyways. 

Regardless, to earn back my place in the guild I needed a new story, an impressive story. So I gathered my supplies and took the first teleport to the City of Luster, closest city in the Kingdom of Orr to the Mystic Woods. Sure, other cities exist at its borders, but Luster is the only one with a direct path into the Woods. A path that is safe, to a point. 

It’s also a great place to get a few last minute supplies. For example, a small ukulele. My previous instrument, my precious goldenrod Oud, was repossessed by the guild. I needed something cheap and lightweight. And also I was banned from purchasing from most craftsfolk because, and I’m sure you’re tired of hearing this, Im Blacklisted. 

Luster is so large that I was able to find the ukulele in a pawn shop. I wasn’t after a ukulele, that’s just what was there. 

Right! I was ready to go. 

Whistling the first ever song I wrote, and tuning my new old ukulele, I set off down the road. 

And Into the Woods. 

—

Maybe I should lower my standards? Surely the guild won’t be too hard on me?

Or perhaps it would just take more than a day and night in the woods to find a story. 

The first day I found some gnomes preparing for a small feast of the half-moon glory. I was confident that something would happen at the party. Something had to go wrong, and maybe a hero, maybe I, would save the day! Or night, as it would be night. No such luck, it was a very nice celebration, absolutely no issues. Wasted a day!! 

Not that i’m on a time limit. 

The gnomes were so nice, and they made the most delightful floral scented cakes. They enjoyed my songs and tales about heroic gnomes and I left their camp with a flower crown and a sack of cakes. 

I felt like today I would find a story! 

Nope. 

In this forest of wonder and magic and monsters and secrets, I ran into nothing. I even played music to attract trouble but Nooooooooo, guess even the beasts of the woods knew I was blacklisted! 

It was late afternoon when I found some interesting deer tracks and decided to follow. 

Bards aren’t known for our stealth but I’m going to tell you a secret. What’s the guild gonna do! Blacklist me? 

Anyways the secret is: certain Bards learn to play notes and pitches that cancel out our footsteps and create silence. 

I followed the prints to find a small herd of very interesting deer! 

They had really interesting patterns, each one slightly different but only if you looked closely. That meant I needed a closer look. 

So focused on the deer I didn’t watch my feet and I tripped. The deer ran off. 

“HEY!” a shrill voice called from somewhere in the trees, “What did you do that for?”

No idea who was yelling at me but I was taking no chances, and like the deer I bolted. But not fast enough, not nimble enough. 

An arrow shot by my leg and stuck in the ground. I stopped. And stood perfectly still. 

“idiot.” the voice was now right behind me! 

I turned. And looked down. It was an elf! With plum purple skin and dark green hair. 

And they were laughing. 

Then another elf fell from the trees to land silently next to the first. This one had dark green skin and straw yellow hair. Their long ears were standing straight up reaching higher than my eyes. 

They were laughing too.

“What’s so funny?”

“You responded to ‘idiot’!” Said the purple one. 

Ugh. Elves!!

Then they got suddenly more serious. 

“Can’t believe it! We’ve been hunting those deer for days and you happen to trip when we got them in our sights!”

“I’m, sorry?” 

The second elf elbowed the first, “he couldn’t have known we were there, Damian! Not his fault!” She spoke in elvish but I’m fluent. 

The first elf, Damian, looked up and half groaned half sighed, “and I suppose, Bridget, that I should apologize to the human for almost shooting him?”

I don’t know why I spoke up but I did. 

“It was an impressive warning shot!”

Damian’s ears stood up again then folded back and a little red flush appeared on the purple cheeks. As did on Bridget’s but for a different reason. 

“Yes. Warning shot,” they said. 

This time I managed to keep my mouth shut. Not a smart idea to quip about an elve’s bunting prowess. I still wasn’t happy to learn they were trying to shoot me! 

“You’re an adventurer?” Asked Bridget.

“A bard!” I said.

“Need a place to stay tonight?”

The shadows were lengthening, I hadn’t noticed. And then my stomach growled. 

“I sure do. But are you sure? I mean I did scare the deer-“

Damian shouldered their bow and nodded, “It wouldn’t be very elven to leave a stranger in the woods.”

Even not hunting they moved so silently I couldn’t take my eyes off them as I followed them to their village. We stopped by the temple, as it is the respectful thing to do when entering the village. It was set up for fall, done up in browns and oranges and paper chains. On the altar was a single brown leaf. The first one seen by a member of the village. 

I’m not elvish but I still prayed to Autumn for my hometown to have a bountiful harvest. 

I sat on the floor in the common dining hall as my new… friends, sat on stools made of tree stumps. They may not have caught any deer but there was some sort of roasted meat concoction wrapped in sugary leaves, crystallized to give it crunch, making a sweet and savory combination I’d never experienced before. The same sugar crispy leaves were used to scoop a sort of nut and vegetable curry. Delightful! I could write a song just about the food. 

I of course told them why I was in the woods, since they were curious. 

And they told everyone how I tripped and fell, exaggerating it greatly. All the elves laughed but knowing elves I was better off. They enjoyed slapstick comedy. The fact that I was able to laugh at myself seemed to gain me favor. 

One elf, with lighter green skin and dark brown hair laughed like the rest and yet, their eyes were deep in thought. They were a strange one, I think. Even by elf standards they had a strange name. 

Jacuzzi? Who names themselves jacuzzi?

Then they spoke. 

“So, you need a story?” They asked. I nodded.

“I think I can help you,” they said, “at the very least point you in the right direction.” 

At their words a lot of the company got quiet. 

“If you’re that desperate, there’s,” they paused, as if they were still considering whether or not to tell me, “A wizard. If you encounter him, you’re sure to get a proper story.”

I couldn’t think why this made the elf act so strange, plenty of mages made it their job to participate in tales. Though. With wizards they were usually evil, if not a member of an adventuring party. Nonetheless! A story about a wizard sounded fantastic. 

“Where does-“ I stopped myself from finishing that stupid sentence. Nowhere in the Mystic Woods stayed put so asking for directions was complete folly. 

“What’s the best way to, uh, find him?” 

Jacuzzi shrugged “The birds have the most up to date information. But you’ll know it’s his place when you find the tower in the garden.”

Lots of wizards had towers, few had gardens. That was more of a witch thing. 

“He’ll be there? Tonight”

“Probably, he can’t- well he’ll be there. If not tonight then by the morning. Don’t mess with his things.”

“Why-”

“He considers it extremely rude- You don’t want to be rude”

Sound advice. 

“Hold on tonight?” Damian re-entered the conversation. “Are you mad? Traveling the forest at night is dangerous! Especially alone.”

“So? I’m trying to get into trouble. Doesn’t make a difference if I find it at the tower or on my way.” 

My confidence wasn’t entirely fake. I had a good meal, I wasn’t tired. I could knock this out by morning! 

“Thank you, for everything.” 

I swear I heard giggling as I departed. If these elves were pulling one over on me well! I don’t know what I would do but I’ll think of something. I had a wizard to find. 

It wasn’t long before I realized why I should have waited for morning. 

No! Birds! 

From Who could I ask directions? The sun was about to set. It was only early autumn, the days were still a decent length, but it would be dark real soon. No birds, no people. 

Wait. I spoke too soon. There were footsteps. It was a slim chance but maybe they could help me. 

“Young man, what are you doing? Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out at night alone?”

The voice had a deep and soft quality that wasn’t human. But they were speaking Orriandish. Really folks, dont meet strangers in the forest that you can’t see. They’re usually evil witches or sorcerers or cyclops ogres. Yeah, one-eyed ogres are skilled talkers, luring people to them. It was only after I answered I realized this could be an ogre. 

“Aren’t you out alone too?”

“Why yes-” the voice was closer and then I saw them. 

Thankfully it wasn’t and ogre. But it was a witch, and a dwarf one. Uncommon. Probably not evil. It did explain why they were confidently out at night. Dwarves had pretty amazing night vision. They had the traditional black robe and hat, and a cat sat down beside them. It was a really large cat, which was amusing next to the short witch. Their long braided beard was decorated with trinkets, which was a quaint look I must admit. 

“But I live here.”

I stood up straight, which I guess was a bit rude. 

“How do you know I don’t?” I stammered, “I could!”

The dwarf stroked their beard, “I guess it’s possible, do you?”

I sighed and slouched, “No…”

“But I am looking for trouble.” I explained my story and the dwarf listened, smiling kindly. 

“So the elves told me I would be guaranteed a story if I found this wizard who has a tower and a garden-”

The witch’s eyebrows raised. 

“- you know this wizard?”

The cat mrowed loudly, his tail swishing on the forest floor a bit faster. 

“I do indeed,” there was an extreme fondness in their voice. 

“And you know where he is?”

The witch laughed, “I’d say this was coincidence, but in these parts there are too many of those to be truly coincidental. I do in fact know the currently location, and it’s close by.”

“Really!” I almost danced with excitement. 

Unlike the elves the dwarf had no hesitations. They pointed me in the right direction, and informed me of a few roadblocks and landmarks. 

“Thanks so much!” I waved back at them and didn’t look where I was going and almost tripped. 

Almost. 

“And light your lantern!” 

Oh right, duh! 

Finding the tower was easy with the witch’s directions. They’d even told me the thorns were fake and the vines safe to climb up. That should have raised red flags, or some color, but I was so focused on achieving my goal. 

Now, we bards aren’t really known for our… physical abilities beyond dance. We can fight sure, but a fifty-foot climb is gonna leave most bards gasping for breath. I’m proud to say I was merely on the cusp of wheezing, though I was having difficulty standing. 

I needed to rest. So I lay on the windowsill. 

Which I failed to notice stretched so that I could more than easily lie down. The cool night air and stone felt so nice. I looked into the tower. 

And my heart stopped. 

I’d gotten a brief glimpse before nearly passing out, but it was different now. 

Exactly the same. 

But. 

Bigger. 

You might know, my readers, that wizards are all human. All of them. Non-humans aren’t allowed to attend the academy. I’m sure those like I, being a quarter fairy, might be let in, but… This- this giant sized workshop didn’t make any sense. A giant could not be a wizard no way. Why would the elves say this was a wizard’s tower? Did they not understand the difference between wizard, witch, and sorcerer?

But the dwarf witch, they had to know! They had not corrected me. Plus, the workshop did have a very wizard feel to it.

What was going on here? 

I needed a moment to process so I rolled over to look outside. Looking inside made my head hurt. 

But a Giant Wizard. If that were real, what a story! If it were fake, then well, a giant mage is still exciting. I looked once more into the room. Three desks, one for material prepping and alchemy, one that looked like the main workbench, and one… like a spare workbench? It was not very organized compared to the other. And shelves full of things I could not identify. 

And on the floor, an open trap door with stairs leading down. Down to where the wizard must be. 

I was thankful I had noticed the shift in scale, or I surely would have fallen 15 feet onto the floor. Instead I got out my grappling hook and rope and rappelled down. With a flick, the hook dislodged. This place was large, I would need it again. 

I could have spent hours in this room, just taking in the immense magical collection, but that wasn’t why I was there. And I heard noises from down the stairs. Water? Clinking metal? I took each stair one at a time, slowly making my way deeper into the tower. 

Either the kitchen just happened to be one floor down or this stairwell was enchanted to take you to the floor you were thinking about. For just as I reached the landing I saw the massive doorframe that led into what was clearly a kitchen and small dining room. Small for the giant, who was at the sink washing pots, pans, and other things. 

He certainly looked like a wizard! A tall wide brimmed hat with a curling point, and robes that matched the garish colors and patterns. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and mutton chops, and long curly black hair tied behind his back. On his handsomely large nose rested thick square spectacles. Not only was he tall, he was just plain large. 

I know I talked about the false stereotypes of bards, but we weren’t the only profession with them. People tended to think of Wizards as more delicate, as they spent all their time studying, never going out, forgetting meals. But this, man, for he looked more human than giant except for being over 20ft tall, well the only word for it was burly. 

I’d never imagined a wizard who, if you removed his wizard robes, put him in a flannel shirt and handed him an axe would be a picture perfect lumberjack. Now such a wizard was right before my very eyes. 

Suddenly I was not so confident. I should have lost my nerve back at the window, when I saw the scale of the workshop. But it just didn’t hit me until I saw the giant. I’ve seen giants before, they are actually larger than this person, that made him seem more dangerous. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

This wasn’t just any wizard, or any giant. 

This one was evil. 

Maybe I could just leave! Yeah. I would just get the fuck out of here. I was not prepared to handle an evil giant wizard. 

I made my decision a bit too late. The giant stopped cleaning a plate to look up and sniff the air. 

Shit. 

It was futile to run, but it was my only option. I didn’t even make it up two stairs before the giant roared with delight. 

“FEE FI FO FUM!”

No no no! Not that! 

“I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE HUMAN KIND!” 

Well technically I was quarter fairy but-

“BE THEY ALIVE OR BE THEY DEAD, I’LL GRIND THEIR BONES TO MAKE MY BREAD.”

Yeah… I should not have come here. Evil giants tend to eat people. I’d had a small hope that this smaller giant, who was very likely a proper wizard, wouldn’t. Also the line about grinding my bones to make bread? I’m no alchemist but I dont think powdered bones make for a good flour, and wouldn’t even be enough to make bread for a giant if it were! As far as I knew giants didn’t bother with such things and just gobbled people up. 

Which didn’t bode well for me as this giant made it stairwell in a few seconds and scooped me up in one hand, holding me up to his face. 

“How convenient, a tasty little thief” he smiled, revealing very giant-like fangs. His breath was horrible. “I was just thinking I needed some dessert.”

“Please! Mister Wizard, I did not steal anything, I am no thief! I’m a bard!”

The giant raised his eyebrows, but did not set me down, instead he turned and walked back into the kitchen. 

“A bard?” he asked, “what’s your name?”

“Ophir Shel Peh!” I said. 

“Not Jack then?” The giant tapped his chin, and his eyes found my ukulele. “Hm. Yes I would say you probably are a bard! I don’t get many of those.” 

He sat at the personal dining table. And set me in front of him, putting his elbows on the table, and his chin over intertwined fingers. It was silent except for his breathing, and my heart in my ears. Every breath he took blew around me, and it was just a little warmer than I expected. He didn’t say anything for a long time and I started shaking, adding my rattling bones to the noise. 

“Why are you here?” he asked before I fainted (I had… somehow forgot about breathing). 

“Adventuring!” I couldn’t say ‘for a story’! THAT’S CHEATING. But perhaps… Ah I can’t lie to you reader. I wish I could say I was perspicacious enough to consider this giant was a professional fairytale villain. But I had no idea. I was damn lucky he was though. And he’s really good. I understand why His Mystical Majesty hired him. 

Let’s get back to me being a complete dumbass shall we?

The giant’s face hardened and I worried I’d fucked up. 

“Adventuring?” he asked rhetorically, but I nodded, then he looked a little morose. 

“Shame, I was thinking of letting you go-”

He was!?

“-But I guess I have to eat you after all.”

He didn’t sound at all troubled by it. I mean, he had threatened to do so. I backed up and he smiled, knowing he could snatch me up no matter what. I think he could tell I was going to ask why, even just to stall. 

“It’s nothing personal, I don’t like intruders on my good days. But I can’t have you out there talking about me, spreading the word of a merciful giant. You’ll only get more people killed. ” 

That was a lot to process but I got the gist. 

“I won’t talk!”

He stood up and slammed his palms on the table so hard I finally fell down. 

“You’re a bard, it’s your job!” 

Unfortunately he was right. 

Then he looked a bit surprised by something, narrowing his eyes at me. 

“I suppose,” he said, “your job also involves performing?”

I nodded. 

“I don’t get to go out much,” he said, though I wasn’t sure that the entire truth “If you give me a good show, I might consider it payment for what would have been an extra special treat. I can smell the fairy blood on you.”

I tried not to make a face. My fairy blood made me smell better? Great. And there was always a chance he was lying, just to get a show and his dessert. Evil giants might be fairly honorable, but evil wizards were notoriously dishonest. So I had no idea with this evil giant wizard. 

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” I asked. 

He sat back down, perfectly copying his original pose. 

“Tell me a story,” he said. “And perhaps I will not eat you.”

Great. Legally there weren’t many stories I could tell. You might be asking, ‘Ophir! You’re about to die, what do you care?’ Well if I live and I’m found out, I’ll be expelled from the guild for life. I’m already in hot water. 

That… and the only stories I could think of were ones with evil wizards or giants, who ended up dead. Curse my stupid brain. But I couldn’t refuse, he would eat me! Guess I had no other choice. 

[(adapted from a real tale)

The story of Maestro Lattantio and His Apprentice Dionigi. 

It was an old tale, from the long dead kingdom of Italy, so anyone could tell it. A wild tale of a wizard and his apprentice battling it out in ways only two mages would. Wanting to be free of his abusive master, Diogini kept turning into things, animals, creatures, to escape. 

But Lattantio would transform into the exact creature or monster or animated object needed to re-capture Diogini. Eventually Diogini turned into a fish and swam down a river. Lattantio declared that he was through with these games and would kill him. Lattantio turned into a kingfisher hawk, intending to snatch him out of the water, but Diogini jumped into a basket carried by a handmaiden for the princess. The handmaiden had been doing laundry, so being a fish wouldn’t do. He turned himself into a beautiful ruby ring. The princess found it in her pocket and he became her new favorite piece of jewelry. 

Then one day, the King became ill, and Lattantio was called in to cure him. He did of course, and in payment, asked for the princess’s ruby ring, for he could tell it was Diogini. But he could come back tomorrow for the payment 

That night, when the princess took off the ring, Diogini transformed back into a man. He apologized for his ruse, and explained that the wizard Lattantio was his enemy, and would do anything to get him back into his clutches. The princess, who at first was horrified, saw that Diogini meant her no harm, and he was as handsome a man as he was beautiful a ring. She asked how she could help. 

The next day, when Lattantio returned, the princess stepped forward and held out the ring. Then dropped it to the floor. It turned into a mouse, so of course, Lattantio turned into a cat. The princess whistled to one of the palace dogs, which leapt at the cat, breaking its neck. 

Diogini quickly returned to human form and separated the dog from the cat’s corpse, tossing it into the fire. The only way to be sure the evil was truly destroyed. 

Impressed by Diogini’s skill and at the behest of the princess, the King was happy to make Diogini the court wizard, and his son. 

]

I concluded the story, and looked at the giant, distressed to find he looked unimpressed. 

“That was,” he waved his hand in a dismissal manner, “diverting, but I could just have easily read that story.”

WHAT! I’d done voices! I was dramatic and expressive! How dare he say reading it from a book could be the same! But I couldn’t be angry because I was scared. 

“Though I suppose it was decent,” he continued, “just not enough to keep you alive.”

Crap.

“Dance for me,” he said, “and perhaps I will not eat you.”

It took me a few seconds to notice he wasn’t eating me, but instead was giving me another chance. But… Dance!? On this table? With my leather boots on? And my thick pants? And no music!? This was not good. 

“S-sure” I said, I was still shaking badly. 

Since there was no music I thought perhaps, something that conveyed real meaning through motion. I could hear the song in my head at least, so I wouldn’t falter or look like I was making shit up. 

I leapt and gestured, and waggled my body in the most embarrassing ways. 

“What is this crap?” said the giant after I had danced for only a minute. 

“Interpretive dance, mister giant,” I said, freezing in a most uncomfortable pose. 

“You’d better pick something else,” he said. “And give it some more personality”

All I knew was he had given me a second chance. Ok. So I didn’t have music, but maybe something rhythmic would be better. I didn’t have the right shoes but my footsteps were still very audible. 

So I went into a new dance. Hopping and stomping and tapping my feet. Then I started singing. I had been so stupid that I forgot I could do both at the same time. I basically re-invented a few ritual dances from my hometown, used to bless the beginning of each month. If I lived through this I would go home and teach everyone. 

The giant Watched me carefully from behind those huge glasses. Judge, jury and executioner. 

Finally I was sore and out of breath, jumped up to land with a mighty THUNK, ending the performance. 

The giant looked a bit sorry now. Why would he look sorry!?

“That was very impressive, and your singing was a nice touch, but I think such things would best be done with a group. Alone it was underwhelming.” 

What did he know! I’d danced my freaking ass off! I sat down and tried not to cry as I regained my strength. Why weren’t my best efforts good enough!? I was a Master bard. But I was at the mercy of the most subjective critic. I had to change tactics. Impressing him wasn’t going to cut it. 

“Well, since it’s getting late,” he reached out a hand. 

“Wait!” I shouted, nearly breaking my voice which would have been a death sentence. 

The giant’s hand paused, “That was so bold I’m inclined to do so, but not for long.”

“You, liked my singing?” I asked. 

The hand retreated. “You could say that.” Then he caught on. “Fine. One last chance.” 

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and cleared his throat. 

“Sing for me, little bard, and perhaps, I will consider not eating you.”

I scrambled to my ukulele. It was so old it was already out of tune, so I hurriedly tuned it, under the piercing gaze of the giant. 

“Your voice isn’t magical is it?” Asked the giant as I tuned the ukulele.

I smiled “No, it is. My fey ancestry. Never really tested its power. Mostly I’ve transfixed crowds or made them cry with the opening notes. I’ve also played monsters to sleep.”

He leaned forward as I realized my mistake and quickly added “but that doesn’t work if you know about it! Which you now do!” 

Thankfully he believed me. I was telling the truth, but there was no reason for him to trust me. 

“Well, just make it a nice song. I’ve got sensitive ears.”

Oh fantastic. That meant he could probably tell if I went out of key. I had a moment’s thought to play something screeching and horrible, to make him bleed from his ears, giving me a chance to get away, or at least cause him pain before he ended my life. No. My first choice of song was probably the best one. 

I sat down criss cross apple sauce, but back very straight. And I strummed the opening cords. 

[

In the quiet mystic morning  
When the sun’s just graced the land  
O’er the horizon, lies a story  
And it begs to take my hand

Now that summer’s ceased its gleaming  
And the harvest’s past its prime  
In adventure I’ve found meaning  
But I’ll be homeward bound in time 

Bind me not, to the pasture  
Chain me not to the town  
Set me free to find my calling  
And I’ll return to you somehow

-

As the first instrumental break started I turned my attention to the giant. His face was as stoney as ever. I wasn’t hitting my mark. So I continued. 

-

If you find it’s me you’re missing  
And you’re hoping I’ll return  
To your thoughts I’ll soon be listing  
On the road I’ll stop and turn

-

The old strings were threatening to cut into my fingers but I just used the pain to fuel my voice, powering it with agony and sorrow. I saw the giant’s brows raise as my human sized voice grew to fill the giant room. 

-

For the wind has set me racing  
As my journey now begins  
To leave the path I’ll be retracing  
When I’m homeward bound again

Bind me not, to the pasture  
Chain me not to the town  
Set me free to find my calling  
And I’ll return to you somehow

-

The second, and last, instrumental break. I had started crying at the chorus and couldn’t see the giant through my tears. My last performance, and it was for my murderer. 

And still my song rang out. 

-

In the quiet  
Mystic morning  
When the moon has gone to bed  
When adventure’s lost its meaning…

I’ll be homeward bound

Again

-

My ears were ringing from the sheer volume, I was clutching the Ukulele so hard it threatened to crack. I was numb from all my efforts. Now would be a great time for him to eat me, maybe I would feel no pain. 

Then, as my ears and eyes cleared up, I saw. 

The giant’s eyes, red. Shiny trails of tears down his cheeks. His arms were still crossed but he looked like he was almost strangling himself. Still, I did not let myself feel any hope. 

“Dammit,” he hissed and sniffed, “I should eat you for making me cry.” 

No. No no no no no. 

“But I won’t” he sniffed again and got out a handkerchief, “You’ve more than earned your life.”

I collapsed and started crying harder. I had done it. By the gods. I had fucking done it. I let myself melt into the table, half passing out. I didn’t want to feel or think for an entire week. I guess because he wasn’t going to kill me, the giant let me lay there. 

When I finally sat up he was making tea! I very much wanted to get the fuck out of there but the tea smelled amazing, almost magical. 

He noticed me moving. 

“I find tea helps after a harrowing adventure,” he said cheerfully. 

His demeanor was entirely different. His face was softer, his voice was higher, his dark brown eyes colder, but considering they had been blazing before, it was a friendly warmth now. 

That really had been an adventure hadn’t it. One that really made use of my skill set. One that was perfect to turn into a story. It had great pacing too, with just a bit of tweaking. I’d already started writing out the flowery prose and accompanying staging in my head. My interpretive dance was going to be way better in the retelling, but don’t say anything to the guild alright? Everyone embellished. 

I had to scramble away as he set the table, which meant setting down a smaller table and chair for me, and then bringing over his own cup and the teapot. He touched the sides of the pot that must be hot enough to scald skin from bone like it was nothing, pouring out near boiling tea. I watched mesmerized as he used a bit of magic to pour the tea into my teacup. 

“Let it cool,” he said, as he took a drink of his own tea, “I’m not normally a fan of sweetened tea, but I thought a little extra honey would do your throat some good.”

I gingerly stood up and got into the chair. It was normal sized of course, since he was giant. But here I felt like a doll that some demonic girl had set up for a tea party. 

“Thanks,” I said, and indeed my throat felt raw. I couldn’t wait to drink the tea, but it was still too hot. 

“I should be thanking you,” said the giant, smiling and showing off his fangs, but it no longer felt so threatening, “That was quite a show! You must be a really high ranking bard.”

My face turned very red, “I- well I’m on probation,” I admitted, “blacklisted. So really, thanks for-”

I saw his eyes glitter, literally. 

“You- you never meant to eat me did you?”

He grinned even wider, “No, but I trust you won’t include that in your tale.”

I shook my head. 

“I very much enjoy playing the big bad giant,” he mused, “But I have other work; I can’t have adventurers showing up all the time.”

Now I was curious, “If I may ask, what else do you do then?”

There was a short pause as he considered whether or not to tell me. I wondered if it was a grand secret. 

“I’m a royal wizard,” he finally said, and there was a massive amount of pride underneath his tone. And resentment. That was concerning. 

My jaw dropped, “You- A Royal Wizard?”

This might be the most interesting person I’d ever met. How did a giant, or giant-esq thing become a royal wizard!? How did a royal wizard end up running an evil tower? 

“You already got one tale, but if you’re not inclined to leave so soon, I can give you another.”

I definitely knew where this was going and I definitely wanted this tale. 

“But on one condition,” he said. “You cannot tell it until either I or the Mystic King is dead.”

“Are- you dying?” I asked. 

He laughed, “No, but I am still a villain. I try to keep a fairly low profile, but any day a slayer could show up and succeed in killing me.” 

That made sense, but now that I was not mortally terrified of him, I saw that this man was much younger than I’d previously thought. He looked barely 24, a young man, and he had to worry about slayers! It also meant it couldn’t have been in this job for that long, being evil must really suit him. 

“Hopefully it won’t be for years, which will give you time to make this tale as grand as possible,” he continued. 

He drank more of his tea.

“I’m not great story teller,” he started off, “but I suppose the tale of how a foolish half-giant with dreams of becoming a wizard, and ending up a prisoner in the woods, might be a good one.”

Prisoner? Even more layers. Yes. This should be a good one indeed. 

Though he was right. Gods, wizards! They have no concept of narrative flow! They don’t leave out details! 

And yet. It was riveting. Yonah HaEsh, for that was his name which I finally learned, was half giant, half FireWitch. His father, the FireWitch, got interested in magic, but he wanted more structured study, beyond what witches can do. So he disguised himself as human to attend school. He was found out eventually, expelled and arrested for infiltrating the kingdom as a dangerous magical monster. He was almost executed before he was offered a job here in the tower! And amazingly, the Grand Master of the school had taken pity on him and allowed him to continue his studies here and graduate, earning the right to call himself a wizard. 

I had forgotten about my tea by the end and it had gone cold. That was an easy fix apparently: he pinched the cup between his thumb and pointer finger. A few seconds later it was steaming again. 

I finally took a sip, it was incredible. I made a mental note to write a poem or a song about it. But I had other things to think about, to talk about. 

“It’s a great story,” I said, with a cockiness I should have tried to keep in check, “but it needs a lot of work. It’s a good thing I’ve got a lot of time. I’ll need to go out and interview people.”

I stood up, “Which means, I need to hear it again.”

Yonah raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I should have been taking notes,” I said, “I need more specific dates and times and names! Oh and if you can tell me how your parents met, that would make for a great prologue.” 

He stood up too, clearing away his and my tea settings. But he didn’t clean them, just put them aside. 

“In that case,” he said, returning and offering his hand palm up, “We should take this upstairs.”

I still hesitated a bit, but I sat on his hand and was transferred to his shoulder. I’d never been on a giant’s shoulder before. I was tempted to touch his curly hair, since mountain giants don’t have hair, I thought it amazing that this half-giant had such thick silky locks. I settled to lean a bit towards his head for steadiness. Yonah didn’t say anything as he regathered the teapot and cups, and even got a few pieces of berry-nut bread and goat cheese. Then headed up to the workshop. 

Once again, he had a human sized desk that he set on his much larger one, and human sized pens (really nice ones), and a few human sized notebooks. Though I guess, since he can reduce to human size whenever he wanted (that was part of his “disguise”), and had many human friends, it made sense. 

“We can go in order,” I said, “But I think I want to start on what you got up to in school. We want people to really get attached to you and your friends so that they are on your side by the trial.”

Yonah liked that idea. I think he wanted this story to show him in a positive light, even if he was officially evil. 

We worked through the night. And my second cup of tea got cold. 

[FIN]

**Author's Note:**

> FOR REFERENCE, HERE’S HOW THE SONG SOUNDS: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VooU55wzSEc
> 
> THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE COMMENT!


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